The Dream of Chouza Akimichi
by BarettaVendetta
Summary: WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS. We saw the dreamworlds of the Konoha kids in Mugen Tsukuyomi, but what of the adults? What of their stories? What did they see in their dreams? Here is the dreamworld of a certain jounin.


**The Dream of Chouza Akimichi**

_You see the moon staring down _

_Like a single tearful eye_

_The teardrops falling down _

_Over innocent passers-by_

- Space, 'Teardrops From The Moon'

First there had been the zombies, then the spikes and the fire and the black ball of malevolent chakra, and now the night sky had turned white.

Chouza Akimichi had long been separated from his son, and the rest of his division. Where Darui was now, he could be dead for all Chouza knew, just like..._no, don't think about it, don't think about it._ He shielded his eyes with his hand, and then he saw it. The last time he had seen that thing had been in the eyes of those men with the chakra rods in their bodies.

_Gods, it was beautiful._

His small dark eyes turned to spirals.

Green tendrils enveloped Chouza's huge body. They sprung up from the ground and wound themselves around his legs, twisting and turning up his torso and pinning his arms to his sides, binding him, covering his shoulders and neck and then his chin, his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his forehead, until he was wrapped and cocooned, like the butterfly that all Akimichi members swore to become.

He could not fight back. He did not want to fight back. His bound arms and legs were as lead, and even if he had been able to reach for his staff, he would not have. He was tired...so tired. If there was anything to feel. His mind was entirely occupied by that giant eye. He was no longer a man, let alone a shinobi. He was nothing and no-one.

_Sleep now, my children_, a strange woman's voice called to him from somewhere dark and foggy.

Then everything went black.

XXX

_The immense Rinnegan beamed down on the world, and Madara Uchiha, hovering in the sky over the battlefield, smiled to himself and wondered what Hashirama would think._

_Mission accomplished._

XXX

It was early summer, and the sky was bright and clear. A small group of shinobi, Chouza among them, were walking along the dirt track that led into Konoha, on the last leg of their journey. They'd been in Kirigakure, where they'd escorted a bridge builder from Point A to Point B, and aside from a group of amateurish bandits, there had been no fuss. Kakashi Hatake had dealt with them in seconds. Chouza hadn't even needed to get involved. He'd gone out drinking afterwards with a group of Kirigakure shinobi and knocked back a load of vodka shots, and his hangover had quickly worn off. It was amazing what the cold could do for a hangover there.

Most missions he'd had recently had either been missions of this kind, or had involved villages outside the Big Five, though thankfully, there were no conflicts. It had been months, years, since the last war. Had there ever even _been_ a war? Chouza couldn't remember. It all seemed so distant now. He had a vague memory that somehow, the Alliance had won and Madara and his cronies had been defeated and the dead had returned to their graves. The Fifth had returned triumphantly to Konoha with the survivors in tow, and they'd been hailed as heroes. Everything had gone back to normal surprisingly quickly.

At least, he thought it had. It certainly seemed that way.

The party crossed into Konoha. Izumo Kamizuki and Kotetsu Hagane were at the gate, nursing cardboard cups of tea.

"Alright, lads," said Kotetsu, waving them in. "How did it go?"

"Mission accomplished," said Kakashi. "No repeats of the last time I was out there." He turned to the rest of the party. "I know it's been a long journey, but let's get the debrief over with, shall we?"

The party headed to the Hokage's office. "Doing anything later, Akimichi-san?" a Branch Hyuuga asked Chouza.

Chouza considered, and replied, "Watching the football, probably." By his calculations, it would appear that it was Derby Day tonight, and kick-off was in a few hours' time, as the sun had not yet begun to set. There would be time to catch up with his wife and have something to eat and get changed. He'd been wearing the same uniform for days and longed to get out of it.

The debrief, to Chouza's relief, was short. Tsunade had a few words with them, and they were dismissed, and each went their separate ways, some to get a few drinks in before kick-off, some to spend time with their families. Where Kakashi was going, he did not know and did not ask.

Chouza crossed the bridge over the river and made his way to the Akimichi compound. Megumi was sitting on the steps outside, and as soon as she saw Chouza, she heaved herself up and walked towards him – she was not one for over-enthusiastic greetings – and the two wrapped their arms each other, Megumi burying her head in the crook of Chouza's neck. He stroked her hair and held her close, breathing her in. He had missed her.

"Where's Chouji?" he asked.

"He's at his girlfriend's," said Megumi. "I've already eaten, but I can make you something if you'd like?"

"Don't worry about that," said Chouza. "I'm going to Yakiniku Q to watch the match. I'll have something there. Right now, I need to get changed. I'm sorry, I probably stink."

Inside the house, Chouza reached into the fridge, took out a chicken leg and gnawed on it, right down to the bone. He polished off some grapes and a rice ball as well.

He took off his uniform and stepped into the shower. Layers of dust and sweat sloughed off his body. It had been a while since he'd last had a wash, and he shut his eyes and let the warm water run over him. He gave a small sigh of contentment.

Towelling himself off, he changed into a yukata – a dark blue one for the Hawks' strip. Then he went downstairs, kissed Megumi goodbye, and walked off to Yakiniku Q. He had a few days' leave, and he had plans. He would make love to Megumi – if Chouji was spending the night over at Yumi's, they could be as loud as they wanted – and maybe do some gardening and take Chouji fishing. But first, there was the Derby. The red Jackal bastards would probably win again, like they always did, and Chouza, the token Hawks fan, would get ribbed again, but such is life.

Moreover, he had to see them again.

XXX

"What'll you have, Akimichi-san?" asked the bartender, as Chouza propped up the bar at Yakiniku Q and ran a finger over the menu.

"Let's see," Chouza mused. "Erm...the croquettes. Five cheese, one ganmodoki, two bacon. And a plate of tonkatsu, and the gyoza, the yakitori...ah, fuck it. Everything from this column, please. And a bowl of ramen. And to drink...well, I didn't get my round in last time, so I'll have two pints of Tiger and a green tea. That's all for now, thanks." He didn't tell the bartender what table he was sitting at. There was no need.

The bartender got the drinks, and Chouza carefully cradled them in his arms. Over in the corner, facing the TV, he could see them, their heads bowed, probably over some statistics from the paper. Two ponytails: one dark and spiky, the other blond and waist-length.

They saw him coming, and looked up, and smiled. The dark man shuffled his paper to make room for the drinks.

"Alright, Chouza?"

Chouza grinned, and plonked one of the pints and the green tea down on the table.

"Shikaku. Inoichi. Here you go."


End file.
